


Manhattan

by immistermercury



Series: Jim and Fred in NYC [3]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: 1980s NYC, Communication via Letters, Freddie is not, Jim is out, M/M, Slow Burn, Two boys falling in love, all of that good stuff!, give it a go please I'm bad at tagging, learning to be confident in your sexuality, loosely based on dancer from the dance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:53:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28392696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/immistermercury/pseuds/immistermercury
Summary: Oh, vision. I can’t tell you just how much I’d love to sit beachside with you and a thousand people just like us and kiss you until the sun had set and risen again. Vision, my darling, my love- would you permit me to take you to a place I know in uptown Harlem? I’m afraid it’ll be something of a trek, but I can’t risk any of my colleagues seeing me- would this work for you?Let me know, my everything.Xx
Relationships: Jim Hutton/Freddie Mercury
Series: Jim and Fred in NYC [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2168016
Comments: 11
Kudos: 16





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> A totally new fic! It's a while since we've done one of these! This is something of a crazy concept I've had in the works for a little while now - hopefully you'll enjoy reading it! (Don't worry, all will become clear!)

_ Beloved! _

_ I had a pretty one last night. I was awfully tired, you see, but I was buzzing with energy - or maybe it was the coke - and I couldn’t bear the idea of coming back to a house with so many others in it. It felt as though nothing would ever quench the thirst in my soul; I felt hopeless, I felt drowned, like I so often do in a city where it’s so hard to be alone. I talked myself out of the baths at least fifteen times, and yet the warmth of the tiles on my feet gave me a hit stronger than I’d had for the rest of the night. I’d picked strawberries all day - I’d had the dirt under my fingernails, and the scorching sun on my back, and it had felt like life, more life than I had ever felt when I was suffocated in London by a pair of scissors and a razor in my left hand - and my hands weren’t washed properly, my nails felt blunt against his back. He let me be brutal with him, it was everything I’d needed and more. But at the end, you see, I felt so awful for how I’d treated him that I had no choice but to put the last twenty in my pocket into his instead. _

_ I’m starting to feel a little restless again. I suppose I’m growing accustomed to living here, now- I’d always thought that would be impossible! But all the venues I thought were going to be revolutionary aren’t now that I’ve fucked my way through most of the men there. They’re all the same, darling - I thought the idea of this place was that everyone’s so unique! - and I just don’t seem to spark with anybody past a decent blowjob.  _

_ That being said, I did fuck George Michael - I suppose all hope here isn’t lost just yet! _

_ We’re going down to Fire Island on the 18th May (are you coming? I can’t remember if you said you were working that week!), early because Jamie insists that we have one of the best houses, right on the seafront. His plan is for eight bedrooms - one for each of the five of us, and then hopefully a few more strays that he can poach along the way. He’s got his eye on a D&G model he’s seen in a couple of the magazines I’ve thrown his way. The problem is that the rent on this thing is about six thousand for the three months! I’ve been hooking a few times to help earn the money, but I’m not in the city at the moment, and it turns out the money you can get in Florida is closer to jack shit. I need to get these fucking strawberries picked so that I can get back home and put some proper money in the pot.  _

_ Anyway, darling, I’m sure you aren’t interested in my money troubles - it’s not like it’s any different to usual! I’m actually thinking of writing a little account of Fire this year, names and faces that I can look back on. So many of us are dying at the moment that you barely see the same face a few years in a row. If I can write anything juicy, you know, I might try and stretch it into something of a novel - people are obsessed with fag writings at the moment, and I suppose I know what we get up to better than anyone else! _

_ I’m feeling like shaking up my image a little before we do go. Frankie - he’s the blonde, if you remember the photo I sent you - well, he’s just gotten the most wicked pair of shorts you’ve ever seen in your life, and I must admit, darling, I’m a little jealous. I think he was generally taken to be best dressed at Fire last year, and he told me that he was going to kill himself, he couldn’t take the pressure of dressing this year! But honestly, with those shorts, I think he’ll be just fine - he never struggled to find a partner in the sand before, but now he’s really showing off how much he’s been training his legs - if you know what I mean! _

_ Next time I send you a photo I might be blonde too! _

_ I’ll stop taking up all your time, my beloved - I hope you know that I’m missing you terribly! Please, if you can, promise me you’ll come to Fire this summer. I’ll make it something you’ll never forget. _

_ Xx _

* * *

  
  


_ Ecstasy, _

_ Oh, you’ll sensationalise us! You know the public want to read your book, full of sordid details about sucking celebrity’s cocks. I, for one, think you should write it - you can call it a pension pot for the rest of time! Please, vision, send me it in instalments as you go along. I’m sure you could make me feel as though I’m right there with you! _

_ I’m afraid, my lovely darling, that I don’t know a soul that goes to Fire Island, nor do I know a soul who’d give me a place to live, nor do I know what to wear. I’d get eaten alive! Besides, something tells me that my boss wouldn’t be too happy with me requesting to take off three months of the year so that I can play amongst the sand with a whole bunch of naked boys half my age - it’s alright for you, vision, while you’re so pretty and young and fun! You can have all the fun for me. _

_ As for the blonde - absolutely. Especially with your Florida strawberry-picking suntan (!), you’ll look phenomenal! You’ll look absolutely refulgent in that summer sunlight, you handsome bastard. And a pair of cut-off shorts never did a man any harm - quite frankly, from those photos you sent me of your ass, I think it’d be rude to wear anything longer than about three inches.  _

_ I wish I could wax poetical about my New York City life, vision, but alas! It’s not my luck. I’m afraid that my job is ever the same as it was on Tuesday, a few more clients down, and I didn’t even get my night out on Wednesday to tell you about - I fell asleep on the sofa at about eight!  _

_ I’m afraid you must think of me as some tiresome old man, vision! I’m sure some brokerage job would do that to any twenty-something - oh to be you, picking strawberries in the sunshine! You’ve certainly got the right idea. _

_ I must disappear, my love - please send me any photos you get of you in these new outfits. I’d truly love to see them. _

_ Xx _

* * *

  
  


_ Madness, _

_ You don’t sound old at all! You simply sound infinitely more sensible than I’m sure I will ever be - and that’s probably a good thing! _

_ Matt has locked himself in his room and won’t speak to us because Jamie snapped his Gucci lipstick. Apparently, I took Jamie’s side because we fucked on Thursday (I have no idea when you’ll get this - Thursday was the 28th March!) even though I mostly did it to excuse myself from this month’s rent payment - oops! Hey, it pays to bottom in a house of tops (you can’t see it, darling, but rest assured that I’m winking at you). _

_ I simply must beg you to come to Fire. If it’ll help rest your little soul from her worry, you’re very welcome to stay in our house (the toll is simply sucking off either Jamie or Frankie) and I, for one, would be very happy to curuate you a personalised look for the occasion. Rest assured, darling, you’ll spend most of the time naked anyway - there’ll be far too many people who are desperate to get a glimpse of your ass. I do wish you’d send me a photo of you - or, even better, let me come and see you! _

_ I know you think I’m ridiculous, ecstasy, but I’m awfully crazy about you. I’m utterly obsessed with you - I would stay up the whole night just to make sure I told you everything about my week! I’m so sure I’m in love with you, you wouldn’t believe. Every night, I fall asleep and I dream of you - six-two, I think you are, and I think you’re a blonde, too. I bet you’ve got a huge cock. _

_ (You still can’t see me, but I’m definitely licking my lips!) _

_ If you’d permit me to see you before Fire, my life, then I’d be forever grateful. I promise I’ll dress all pretty for you - I’ve been told I never disappoint when I put in the effort. I know you’re busy, my honeybee, but you must have a moment in your schedule that you can fit me in, an evening where we could maybe get a drink, or I could come to your house if that’s easier - I can understand if you’re intimidated by the idiots I live with! _

_ You know, happiness, you’re the first man I’ve ever felt this for. You’re the first man who has ever loved me for who I truly am, and I’ll be forever grateful to you for that. You’re the first man who’s ever cared for the mind before the jockstrap. _

_ (Although, I wouldn’t blame you if you cared for the jockstrap too-) _

_ Xx _

* * *

  
  


_ Affection, _

_ You know, my honey, my darling, I’m a few whiskies in and I need to tell you just how much I love you. _

_ You’re everything to me - you’re the moon and the stars in the night sky, you’re both pen and paper, you’re black and white - you’re everything in the universe. You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever met (your blonde is simply STUNNING, darling, I absolutely adore it!) and I can’t believe that you would truly profess your adoration to me, of all people! _

_ I think it brought a little tear to my eye, just to read it. _

_ Oh, vision. I can’t tell you just how much I’d love to sit beachside with you and a thousand people just like us and kiss you until the sun had set and risen again. Vision, my darling, my love- would you permit me to take you to a place I know in uptown Harlem? I’m afraid it’ll be something of a trek, but I can’t risk any of my colleagues seeing me- would this work for you? _

_ Let me know, my everything. _

_ Xx _

* * *

  
  


_ Destiny, _

_ YES! Yes, yes, a thousand times yes! I’ll be by the station on 125th every night at ten until you come - please don’t run away, ecstasy, please make yourself known. _

_ Xx _


	2. Preparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thought, and thoughtless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The much-anticipated opening!

His dark eyes were all the more prominent now that his hair tumbled over his cheeks in a shock of bleach blonde, contrasting the sun-kissed highlights of his cheekbones that had browned in the midday sun of many a Florida afternoon; he still scoured the dirt from under his nails in the shower every evening. The juice from strawberries stolen under midday sunlight had stained the tips of his fingers and his lips the same candy cane red: he was a shock of colour to behold. 

His tanned fingers lazily flipped the pages of a newspaper, smudging the words of days gone by into his garnet skin; his hands composed artwork directly on his skin, melding blue ink from his pen into the stains that he would never scrub out.

“Don’t even fucking think about it.” He said, as soon as the door opened behind him; when he glanced up, a trickle of blue ink leaked from his lower lip, the end of his pen chewed to its end. “If you touch my hair, I’ll fucking kill you.”

“Good morning, baby!” Jamie sang, voice pitched high and feminine as he winked at Jim; he held his hand out for a moment, inching towards his hair, though his fingers seized his shoulder instead, a pink lip print left on his cheek as he walked by. “You look like a little businessman, sat there with your newspaper.”

“He only reads the classifieds!” Frankie called from next door, before he walked in a second later with a coffee pot and a stack of letters in opposite hands. 

“What the fuck difference does it make to you?” He quipped.

“Oh, Jim, sweetheart, are you sore this morning?” Jamie sat down beside him and propped his feet in his lap. “‘Cause if you’re not, I can’t work out why you’re such a bitch.”

“He thinks it makes up for his lack of personality.” Frankie winked. “Letter from your lover-boy.”

Jim’s face lit up instantaneously and he reached out, taking it from Frankie’s hand. “Clearly you both woke up and decided to fucking bully me.” He muttered, tearing it open with the knife he’d used for his toast.

“Poor baby.” Jamie crooned, taking it from his hand and holding it up above his head as he read the first word. “Affection-” He started, mocking the accent of the poshest man he could imagine. “Jesus, Jim, when did you get so fucking gay?”

“Last time I checked, you were the one at Everard last night.” He muttered, snatching it out of his hand. “It’ds from that guy, it’s got nothing to do with you.”

“You have to admit, it’s fucking romantic.” Frankie countered, hooking his chin on Jim’s shoulder. “Is he coming to Fire?”

“I haven’t read it yet!” He rolled his eyes, though he started to smile. “I don’t know if I can convince him.”

“Can’t you promise him a blowjob or something? I need someone to split the rent.” He kissed Jim’s cheek. “Isn’t he some big businessman? Surely he can fork out half of it.”

“He won’t tell me.” Jim pouted a little. “God, it’s all so mysterious, isn’t it? I don’t even know what he fucking looks like.” He laughed a little. 

“If he can write that like, he’s a handsome bastard.” Jamie insisted, sitting on the table in front of Jim to read the letter with them. “God, look at that handwriting! You know, I had a boyfriend back in seventy-nine, and his handwriting looked like that- he’d only write with a fountain pen.” He sighed happily. “He’d let me go wild in Gucci and I’d watch him sign his name in that handwriting- oh, darling, he was gorgeous, but such a whore.”

“It sounds like your mystery man needs to get out more.” Frankie muttered, kissing Jim on the lips when he turned his head to scowl at him. “You ought to show him a bit more fun, that’s all!”

Jim turned the page over and his cheeks turned scarlet; the colour was an explosion across tanned skin, blood-red against his hair. With his hair, his eyes, and his complexion, Jamie fancied him to be a princess in disguise. “He wants to take me to Harlem.” He murmured. 

“A bit of rough.” Frankie grinned. “What are you going to wear?”

“He loved the photo of the cut-off shorts.” He said shyly.

“In Harlem? At the end of March?” Jamie arched an eyebrow. “Why don’t you borrow my jeans? You know the ones, the ones that push your ass up a bit.”

“Do you think?” He bit his lip. “I don’t want to look like I’m going hooking.”

“Thanks!” Jamie kicked his shoulder playfully. “When does he want you to go?”

“He didn’t say.” He murmured. “Is that a bad sign?”

“No, he’s being cautious. Go tonight.” Frankie butted in. “He doesn’t want someone to intercept your letters and beat the shit out of you, I imagine.”

“That hasn’t happened for a couple of months, why would it happen to me?” He asked.

“You never know, do you?” Frankie shrugged. “Come on, we’ll go to the gym, you can get a good pump on, and then we’ll go. You’ll be to die for.”

“We?” Jim asked quickly.

“Rule of a first date. The guy has to score at least a seven-seven-B for me to leave you along with him, and if he’s over a nine, I’m going wherever you are.” He winked. “I’ve got your back.”

* * *

His shoes squeaked miserably as he kicked them off in the hallway, his blazer soaked through from the rain; he shook off his umbrella and shoved it into the stand, hanging his hat from another peg, and his bag was thrown somewhere near the door. He dropped his keys in the dish, his MetroCard taken out of his pocket to dry before the morning crept around once again-

“Oh, fuck!” Freddie grasped his chest in shock, Mary’s hands rubbing his back as she laughed. “Jesus, darling, you scared the shit out of me.”

“You’re home late, darling.” She murmured, fingering the knot in his tie and gently pulling it loose. “Busy day?”

“I think I might have to kill people if I’m forced to step foot in that office again.” He smiled tightly, dropping a quick kiss on her lips. “How many times can I be fucking forced to do the same thing over and over again?”

“I know you hate it, honey.” She said gently, smoothing her hands over his chest. “But- you got a letter today, and I know that almost puts a smile on your face!”

“Oh, maybe he’s finally finished the paperwork.” Freddie lied smoothly, picking up the letter from the counter. “Would you mind putting the kettle on, darling?”

“Of course not, lovely.” She smiled back at him. “Earl Grey or chamomile?”

“Chamomile would be lovely.” Freddie gave her a tired smile and grabbed his letter opener, slicing the top open as he sat heavily on the sofa. He blinked a few times, eyes heavy, scratching behind his eyelids, and then focused.

_I’ll be by the station on 125th every night at ten until you come - please don’t run away, ecstasy, please make yourself known._

“Mary!” He called, standing up quickly. “Darling, never mind the tea- I’m sorry, honey, I need to go out again.

“Out?” She said, a little put out. “You said-“

“I know, baby, I know.” He kissed her quickly. “I’m sorry, darling, I didn’t realise that this would be so urgent- he’s asked me to go for a meeting this evening.”

“It’s already nine o’clock!” She said, aghast. “Freddie, don’t be ridiculous, it won’t matter if you leave it until morning.”

“Acquisitions can be incredibly time critical.” He insisted. “If you need me to keep making this fucking money-“

“Oh, don’t bring that up again!” She rolled her eyes. “I’ve told you a thousand times that I’m sick of living here-“

“God, trust me, I know!” He spat. “Because nothing I do is ever good enough for you!”

“Because we’re fucking getting on and you still won’t get us a bigger house!” She crossed her arms. “I don’t know where you’re expecting the fucking baby to sleep-“

“You’re not even pregnant!” He rubbed his temples. “Fucking hell, leave me alone, I can’t go out like this.”

Freddie walked to the stairs, climbing halfway up before Mary spoke again.

“Are you going to take another one of your slutty tops in your briefcase?” She spat.

His head whipped around. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t think I haven’t fucking seen you trying to wash them in the sink.” She taunted. “You keep them in the drawer in the hallway so that you can put them in your bag- you go out practically every fucking night!”

“Because you’re no fun!” He shouted. “Fucking hell, I’m the one working fourteen fucking hour days, if I want a drink then I’ll fucking have one.”

“How old is she?” Mary asked, following him into the bedroom. “You’re fucking some fourteen-year-old, aren’t you?”

“Don’t be fucking ridiculous.” He said wearily.

“Is she worth it?” She arched an eyebrow, watching as he pulled out his jeans. “Young and sweet and tight-“

“I-“ Freddie shook his head. “Am going out for a drink with a fucking friend. Quite frankly, I haven’t fucked anyone since the last time you- you fucking forced me into it, and we both know how disastrous that was- I’m not in that much of a hurry to repeat it.”

“If you could just be normal-“ She mocked.

“Jesus, give it a rest.” He said, suddenly tired, and pulled his work shirt off, replacing it with a t-shirt. “When I come back, I’ll be a bit pissed, and I’ll probably be quite a bit happier- why don’t we have that conversation then?”

“I don’t understand why I’m not good enough!” She stamped her foot.

Freddie pushed past her. “Why don’t you start by looking at your fucking personality, and go from there?”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you loved this part! Please leave me all the love/thoughts in the comments - you know I love to read them!


End file.
